


Any x Other x Name

by Drakey



Series: Star Trek: The Next Gon-eration [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter, Star Trek
Genre: Captain Gon, Cardassian War, M/M, Secret Agent Killua, Section 31
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakey/pseuds/Drakey
Summary: As the Cardassian Wars wind down, Gon Freecs is assigned to the USS Olympia as her new captain. The ship feels too big, he's not used to command, and his first officer is frustratingly average.As Killua Zoldyck tries to sort out his mission from Starfleet, he finds himself in need of a few resources. A lot of explosives. An entire army. And a starship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's an Ambassador Class starship somewhere in canon or the apocrypha called the Valdemar. Mercedes Lackey, eat your heart out.

"You were at Voshar?"

"Yes, sir."

"What was it like?"

Gon pondered the question or a moment. How exactly should he describe the loss of two hundred Starfleet officers? "It was kinda fun until we lost the port nacelle. Captain Wing had it all under control, but then the fifth Galor came in and we started taking torpedoes. The shields went down, a disruptor beam cut the nacelle strut apart, and the nacelle plowed right through the stern. We lost everything aft of the crew lounge and spent the next hour fixing things and trying not to explode. By the time we had weapons and impulse engines back, the Valdemar had come in and chased off the Cardassians. The Magellan and the Agincourt traded off towing us to safety. It's just lucky the Farragut was there, too, or we would have lost the Dauntless when the Cardassians got around to finishing off the rest of the task force."

Admiral Netero shook his head. "Four Galors against two Excelsiors, a Centaur, and a Constellation." He opened the door in front of him with a passcode, shaking his head the whole time. "Shameful. You handled it pretty well, though. My condolences on the death of your captain, but that's a part of what we're here for. Starfleet Command agrees that you should be given a ship of your own." As he spoke, he led Gon into his office, which commanded a stunning view of the Utopia Planetia shipyards. Mars spread out red and majestic below, and space all around was dotted with starships. A pair of the hulking new Galaxy Class spaceframes dominated the scene, one so close that her ponderous (and very incomplete) saucer took up a quarter of the window, one far enough away that her vast form served as backdrop for three separate ships. The Dauntless herself sat ruined in a corner of the shipyard, all her lights dimmed and her missing warp nacelle leaving her lopsided and strange.

Nearer to Gon sat some of the slick newer ships. A just-completed Cheyenne was running engine tests, four huge warp nacelles glowing in rapid succession. A Saber Class was pulling out of her berth, in front of a Steamrunner that was clearly waiting for warp coils. "Above" the Steamrunner, a pair of Challengers were having their engines overhauled, and far to the left...

The admiral pointed. "There's the Olympia. She'll be complete in thirty days. Ready for launch in sixty."

Olympia was a compact, second-run New Orleans class, built like she was already hunkered down to take a blow. Seen from the ventral, only one of the external torpedo pods was visible, slung below the engineering hull on a pylon. Her registry number was painted across the bottom of her hull. NCC-65212.

"She'll take five hundred crew. Most of them are being reassigned from the Dauntless, but you're to handpick your own senior crew." He plucked a PADD from his desk and handed it to the Deltan. "Here's your list to pick from. Good luck, Captain."

+----+

Killua Zoldyk shielded his eyes from the harsh midday sunlight over the Kendra Valley. He was beginning to really hate the way the Starfleet doctors had altered his bone structure. Rutian noses were not meant to be covered in wrinkles like this, and it made him sweaty and uncomfortable. Ikalgo was lucky. Killua had no idea what species his lieutenant was, but the little fucker was a shapeshifter and didn't have to deal with a Bajoran nose all the damn time.

"Did he say when he was meeting us?" Killua asked again, mostly to hear his own voice.

"Of course not," Ikalgo replied. He inspected his phaser rifle again, fidgeted, and seemed to consider vaporizing something clear across the valley before setting it back down in his lap.

Killua leaned backwards, closing his eyes and listening all around. The big, clunky earring on his right ear rattled noisily and he let out a huff of annoyance. Killua held his head still and waited for some noise to indicate the approach of his contact.

Gravel crunched under someone's feet below. Killua waited, counting off the seconds, and smiled. "Razor is here." He sat up and called out "You're late!"

Razor's massive frame poked into view. "I didn't say when I would be here."

"We've been here for three hours," Killua informed him calmly. "I could have spent that time in Jalanda City, eating those little crackly pies you people make. Instead, I'm overheated, and the bridge of my nose is sweaty because your species has incredibly stupid bone structure."

Razor smirked at him. Killua contemplated grabbing him by the earring and snapping his neck. "Tell me you have good news."

"Sorry, Zoldyck," Razor said with a shrug. "The Vedeks are still encouraging nonviolence regionally, and Opaka has a pretty firm grip on the hearts and minds around here."

Killua let himself flop back again. His head hit a rock and he winced. "This entire valley is ridiculously important. Your religious leaders are dooming your people."

"They're not religious leaders, remember?" Razor scuffed at a stone on the ground with one toe. "They can't preach about the prophets. They're just cultural icons."

"And I was born in Hathon," Killua said. "If you can't get an army in locally, what am I supposed to do?"

"Import one," Razor said. "There must be hundreds of angry people somewhere you can steal."

"Steal is right," Ikalgo said. "The Cardassians are using your people like property, and Kai Opaka is still preaching peace?"

"Not planetwide," Razor said. "Just here. The valley is 'a place for civilians.' It's ridiculous. Citizens are exactly who need the resistance the most!"

Killua stood up abruptly. "Then let's find ourselves an army. Razor, I need a place where two people could conceivably liberate at least four hundred and get them into fighting shape before the Cardassians can respond."

Razor rolled his eyes. "Or maybe you just want me to magically create an army out of thin air. Alright. I'll get back to you when my contacts find something. You'll need a lot of weapons, though."

+----+

Gon looked down at his desk, and then back up at his new first offficer. The other man's pale blue face was tense. 

Gon sighed. "The entire service record of Commander Zushi is small enough that I could write it on my arm."

"Sorry, sir," the Andorian said. 

"Don't apologize," Gon said. "I want Comman--you--to do better."

Zushi nodded. "Yes sir."

Gon shook his head and looked out the window. The last few hull panels were being put onto the Olympia. Her phaser arrays were being installed. She was nearly done. And this was the last of his senior crew. "Does--do you know what that means? Doing better?"

Zushi was silent. 

"I don't want a crew that gets promoted because it's time for a promotion. I want a crew that does amazing things. I called for... you..." He swore softly. "Sorry, Commander. I have trouble with the language sometimes--"

"I understand, sir. You're from the Cetacea region on Delta, right? No second-person nouns."

"We have them. They're just considered a threat. I'm going to talk calmly to Commander Zushi. I'm going to club 'you' over the head and take his organs out painfully through his ears."

Zushi tried and failed to suppress a laugh. "Whatever makes you comfortable, sir."

Gon nodded "Right. I expect Commander Zushi to be great. All this service record shows me is adequate. Can I expect better?"

Zushi didn't look confident.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to name Gon's ship the Siberia and have Killua ask if he should be jealous of her at some point. I've decided to put Palm elsewhere, instead.

"Okay, so what the fuck is that?" Killua asked, pointing at a dot on the star chart some forty light years away from Bajor.

"Have I mentioned how charming it is that you decided to learn nothing but English obscenities from your time with the Starfleet brass?" Ikalgo said.

"Yes you have. What the fuck is that?"

Razor leaned over the controls and tapped at them for a few minutes. "That the fuck is a Kisstani class cargo hauler. Says here it's called the CUS Nakata. Hauling..." The big Bajoran rolled his eyes. "Very nice. Apparently the Kisstani is hauling 'cargo.' So good to know exactly what it's carrying. Looks like it's going to Lusta."

"Lusta is..." Killua fiddled with the star chart a bit, expanding it out. He pointed. "There. Eighty-three light years out. Cardassian controlled, pretty well inside their borders. How fast can they make it there?"

"At their speed? Three months." Ikalgo gave him a speculative look. "Why do you care?"

"A cargo hauler heading from here to a colony in Cardassian space so far away from the Federation that Starfleet would be crazy to send something after it, and its freight listed as just 'cargo?' That's what you say when your mother asks what you're hiding under your shirt. It might be a bottle of Tendean Brandy, but you'll say 'stuff.' They're calling it cargo, but that's contraband. That's a slave ship."

"How do you know?" Razor asked.

"That's how I'd do it," Killua told him evenly.

+----+

Gon winced as another pair of ionic warheads rattled the Olympia. At the helm, Kaito could be heard muttering to herself. "Join starfleet, they said. It'll be an exciting opportunity." She slewed the ship around in an insane maneuver that somehow put them directly behind one of the Orion raiders. Lieutenant Kurta let fly with a half dozen torpedoes and Kaito continued her tirade. "Plenty of chances to get on the science track, and tons of hands on experience."

"That disabled them for the moment," Lieutenant Krueger called out.

"Take off one of their nacelles, Kurapika," Gon ordered. "Commander Kaito, full about, point us at the other three, and warn me before trying to rip my ship in half with acceleration forces."

"Yes sir," the Bolian at the helm replied, then went back to muttering under her breath. "Get a nice, cushy posting aboard a big cruiser like an Excelsior, you'll meet diplomats--"

"Stow the muttering, Lieutenant Commander Kaito," Zushi snapped from his place beside Gon.

Gon rolled his eyes. Zushi seemed to have decided that the best way to meet Gon's expectation of excellence was to become a strict disciplinarian. Kaito had been third in command and pilot aboard the Dauntless, though. Gon _knew_ her. "Kaito is a brilliant pilot, Zushi, but she took a major head injury last year. Let her mutter. It helps her perform. Gets extra thoughts out of her head."

"Thank you sir," Kaito said, then immediately resumed her grumbling, even as she wove the ship through a small cluster of torpedoes. "Besides, Starfleet is dedicated to peace, you'll never have to deal with combat. Well, guess what, Mom..."

"Sir," Lieutenant Krueger said, "The Orions are fleeing. Warp nine."

"Pursuit course, Kaito," Gon ordered. A couple of disruptor bursts rocked the ship. Gon glanced at the readouts on the arm of his chair. Shields were holding at twenty-two percent. Olympia couldn't take a straight fight with the remaining three enemies. The Orions probably didn't know that, or they wouldn't be running. Seven Orion raiders was enough to tax even the big Nebula Class ships. Taking a New Orleans into the fight was, theoretically, suicide. Gon had gotten clever on the advice of Kurapika Kurta, his amusingly aggressive Vulcan security chief. The previous picket ship at the Sahelta system had been a Defender Class, and already damaged by Cardassian aggression. When the Orions started making their raids, Captain Knov had been totally overwhelmed. His ship's survival was mostly down to some tricks with the warp drive that had Gon's entire science department scratching their heads.

"We'll overtake them in twenty seconds," Krueger announced. 

"Kurapika, full volley of torpedoes. Focus on the nearest Orion ship."

They caught up to the Orions, and Lieutenant Kurta let out his torpedoes.

"Kaito, drop out of warp," Gon said. Ahead of them, the slowest of the Orions lost shields and went spinning at entirely the wrong angle out of warp. Gon let out a breath he'd been holding for what felt like half an hour. "Take us back to Sahelta. Warp three. Nice and slow. Let them think we don't have the engines to keep up."

+----+

Killua's head rested on his folded hands. Admiral Netero's transmission was grainy and juttery, with almost no audio fidelity and a very long delay between replies. It felt a bit like being at home again, with the limited resources available to the Ansata freedom fighters.

"If you think it's a slave ship, you may as well take it," Netero said.

"How?" Killua asked. "I'm currently a Bajoran. They even turned all my hair brown. Am I supposed to steal a Cardassian ship?"

Netero shrugged.

"Helpful as always, sir," Killua snarked. "I have a couple of phasers, a large Bajoran, two normal Bajorans, and whatever the hell Ikalgo is. Any suggestions?"

"Steal a Hideki," Netero suggested.

"And how do I get to orbit?"

Netero shrugged again. "The resistance must have ships."

Killua sighed heavily. "Fine. I'll talk to Razor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how long this is going to be, but it'll be nowhere near as ridiculous as most of my big projects. Maybe between the size of Pursuit and three times that at the most.
> 
> Anyways, Killua is starting to head towards his inevitable meeting with Gon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gon's crew, for the curious:
> 
> Captain: Gon (came up through the sciences track), Deltan  
> 1st officer: Commander Zushi (formerly a security officer on Starbase 19), Andorian  
> Second officer/ Helm: Lt. Commander Kaito (former helmswoman of USS Dauntless), Bolian  
> Security Head/Tactical Officer: Lt. Kurapika, Vulcan  
> Ops/Sciences: Lt. Bisky Krueger, Tellarite  
> Communications: Ensign Melody, Deltan  
> Chief Medical Officer: Lt. Leorio Paladiknight, Human (born on Vulcan)  
> Chief Engineer: Lt. J.G. Kurt "Colt" Petrov, Human (born on Earth)

Gon stepped into the conference room, looking around doubtfully. There were three conference rooms aboard the Olympia, and he could never recall if number two was port or starboard. The ship was wider than any other he'd ever been stationed on, and despite her relatively small crew, she had an absolute glut of internal space, since her two hundred crew occupied about half the volume of Dauntless's six hundred. Most of the crew didn't even share quarters with anyone. Hence the three conference rooms.

His ship's surgeon waved from the side of the conference table. Lieutenant Paladiknight was one of the few Humans on the senior crew. Given the man's irreverant attitude, if Gon hadn't met him when he was serving on the Delphi, he would have skipped right over his personnel file when he was choosing crew.

"Well," the doctor said, "either I'm in the right place or we're both lost. Did they have to put both conference rooms on the same deck?"

"Sit up straight, Lieutenant, we're welcoming a foreign dignitary." Gon took a seat at the end of the table. He tried not to breathe a sigh of relief when Zushi led the Prime Minister of Sahelta into the conference room. She was tallish, with long, slightly stringy, black hair and the strange arrangement of facial features typical of Saheltans: a strangely-colored bony protrusion from her forehead, a nose that sat lower on the face than an average humanoid's, a very narrow mouth. She made a gesture of greeting with arms covered in scintillant blue scales. Gon smiled at her and gestured for her to take a seat. "We're honored to have Prime Minister Palm here. Please, take a seat."

She eased herself into chair Gon had pointed to. Zushi stood nervously to the side until Gon shot him an irritable look. "Thank you for driving off the Orions," Palm began quietly. She reached up to cover one eye and inclined her head. "Our gratitude goes on forever."

"On that note," Gon said, "We need to talk about the continued safety of Sahelta. Olympia is set to leave the system in two weeks. This ship is too big for permanent picket duty. We'll be replaced by the Saratoga, but she's a Miranda class. There are two Orion raiders left from the ones that we chased off, but that doesn't mean they won't come back with friends."

Palm nodded. "Our sensor net can spot them coming, but we don't have the ships to defend ourselves."

Gon took a deep breath. "It might be a good idea to hire mercenaries. Starfleet Command wouldn't approve of the suggestion, but it may be the best option available to Prime Minister Palm." She gave him a funny look, but seemed to dismiss the linguistic tic and moved on. Gon winced at his slip a little, but tapped at the little control panel embedded in the table. "I've already made a list of mercenary groups in the area. My old ship worked with a couple of them pretty regularly during the war. I recommend the Gracerunner or the Tomahawk."

Palm pulled up the list on the little panel in front of her and said "You've sent this along to my staff?"

"Not yet," Gon said. "I was waiting for you to approve of it."

"I do," she said. "Have your communications officer pass it along, please." 

Gon passed the order along to the bridge and continued his briefing, then capped it of with a tour of the ship. The Prime Minister seemed impressed enough, and she invited him to visit the governmental palace.

+----+

Ikalgo rose up from the graveled ground with a soft crunching sound. His victim lay dead at his feet in the midnight darkness, but Ikalgo was already shifting. Within seconds, he had taken on the appearance of the Cardassian he'd just killed. Even as he assumed the alien's appearance, one of the other Cardassians came around the little orbital shuttle. "Lumak? What was that sound?"

Ikalgo shrugged, walking to meet the woman. "I have no idea. I was just going to check. You don't suppose the Bajorans are trying something?"

The Cardassians, both real and false, engaged in a tense discussion while Killua vaulted the fence. He kept close to the ground, moving as quietly as possible around the far side of the orbital shuttle. Ikalgo had the officer's back to him, but it was still nerve-wracking. He rushed around the corner and pulled out his knife in one fluid motion. There were three Cardassians spread out in patrol along the long side of the shuttle. Killua pressed himself to the side of the ship, let out a long, steadying breath, and threw his knife hard at the farthest Cardassian. It stuck somewhere in the man's chest, and he let out a cry of pain.

There was a scuffling and soft shout from the general direction of Ikalgo while the two Cardassians closest to Killua went to help their comrade. It was too late, of course. Killua had coated his knife's blade in some pretty heinous substances. He burst from cover and, with explosive speed, leapt on the nearer Cardassian and twisted his head until his neck snapped. Killua drew his phaser and fired in a long sweep that crossed over the last Cardassian on his side. The setting was high enough that it burned straight through her armor and dropped her dead to the ground.

Footsteps ahead of him were abruptly interrupted by the sounds of hand-to-hand combat and three Cardassians came flying past the side of the shuttle. Razor pounded into view and drove a fist hard into one of them, and his two subordinates followed, one of them swinging a knife, the other leaping up to drop a well-aimed foot onto a Cardassian face.

Killua ran to the portal on the shuttle's starboard side and ripped the panel next to it off. The yellowish sheet of metal clanked on the ground. He could hear the shuttle's engines starting to spool up, and he rearranged the circuit rods as quickly as he could. The hatch opened, and Killua ran in, rounded a corner toward the cockpit, and stopped short. Voices were speaking quickly in the cockpit. Ikalgo came in after Killua in the shape of the Cardassian woman who had come to talk with "Lumak." He stepped into the cockpit and there was a startled gasp, followed by some rapid talking Killua couldn't quite make out.

"Yes, Gul Dukat," Ikalgo said. A long pause. "No, Gul. They managed to kill seven of us. We don't have enough staff to protect the shuttle against another attack." Again, the Gul spoke too softly for Killua to make out what he was saying, but Ikalgo's reply sounded pleased. "That's exactly what I was thinking, Gul." The pilot's voice sounded relieved when he began to speak to Ikalgo, but he didn't get an entire word out before Ikalgo said "Killua, do we need him alive?"

"No, I can fly it," Killua said. Razor, Knuckle, and Shoot filed into the ship, carrying stolen Cardassian phasers. Ikalgo threw the pilot out of the cockpit. Razor grabbed him and twisted his head around, then tossed the corpse out. Killua went to the controls of the shuttle.

"Since this installation is so short-staffed now, we're vulnerable," Ikalgo said. "Five of us can hardly be expected to hold out against a determined Resistance assault. We're to lift off and meet the Kibron in orbit. It's a Hideki they're sending out from Terok Nor right now with replacement crew."

Killua smirked and lifted off. "I told you they would send one to us on a platter if we did this right."

+----+

Palm turned out to be pretty shy in private. She kept glancing at Gon over her tea, but she would always blush and look down right away. Saheltans apparently had blue blood, because her blushes were a sort of dark purple color. It was sort of charming, really. Gon finished his own cup and set it down with a little clink on the fancy coaster in front of him. The dim light of the Governmental Palace's sitting room turned the large space into a fairly intimate setting, and Gon was beginning to suspect that was what Palm wanted.

"I've never seen a Deltan with so much hair," she said finally.

Gon laughed. "It must have been a surprise to find out I'm a Deltan. Going around bald draws stares and... invitations... from most species. People seem to believe that I only want to have sex." Palm definitely blushed at that. Gon bulled on. "I had a follicle treatment done before I entered Starfleet. I guess artificial hair is allowed within protocol. No one's ever tried to make me get rid of it."

"Does it grow?" Palm asked.

Gon nodded. "It grows, it's just not genetically mine. I think the follicles are cloned from a Betazoid." He leaned back. "Palm, Starfleet requires Deltans to take an oath of celibacy because of the effect we have on other species. It's obvious that Palm is attracted to me, but I don't know how real that is."

She sighed. "I'm sorry. This is humiliating for me and inconvenient for you."

Gon shook his head. "It happens all the time. My oath only extends to Starfleet. If Palm still feels this way after a while, we can talk about it. But I should leave."

She guzzled the rest of her tea and escorted him out of the Palace until he called for beam-up. Gon greeted the transporter chief with a curt "at ease, ensign," and went straight to his quarters. He leaned his head against the wall, then bonked his brow against the bulkhead a couple of times and went to go take a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to maintain the second-person linguistic quirk I gave Gon...
> 
> Yes, Knuckle and Shoot are Razor's subordinates in this. No, I don't know where Morel is.
> 
> If you haven't figured it out by now, Killua is Section 31 (for those who came here from HXH land, Section 31 is a dubiously legal black ops/intelligence branch of Starfleet), and it really shows in this chapter. Most of what DS9 and Into Darkness showed us of Section 31 was bureaucratic assholes pushing around power they shouldn't have had in the first place and extremely shady shipbuilding practices, but I figure they should also have some really James Bond/Seal Team Six moments like this.
> 
> Deltans are proof that Gene Roddenberry was a secret pervert :P "I have an idea for an alien for the new movie, guys! They're bald sex fiends with anesthetic psychic powers and a pheromone that makes them totally irresistible. We're gonna have the big scary threat turn into one of them and bone Commander Decker so hard they both ascend to godhood."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE IS A FAIRLY VIVID DESCRIPTION OF A SHIP FULL OF CORPSES IN THE FIRST PART OF THIS CHAPTER. IF THAT'S AN ISSUE FOR YOU, SKIP PARAGRAPH SIX. I'VE ISOLATED THE CHAPTER WITH A ROW OF ASTERISKS ON EITHER END IN CASE YOU NEED A VISUAL CUE.

The Kibron wasn't exactly impressive. It was maybe three times as long as the little orbital shuttle they had already taken, and therefore dwarfed by every single ship above scout class in Starfleet. Killua sat back as Ikalgo made his way into the ship. The ten "replacement crew" met a wide-beam phaser blast when they walked in. Razor took time to dispatch them all by hand, since Killua couldn't get more than a fairly light stun out of such a wide dispersal setting on the (useless) Bajoran phaser he was wielding.

"Knuckle, Shoot, go play forward guard in the corridor," Razor began, but Killua held up his hand. 

"Ikalgo has this. Let him work." Twenty minutes passed quietly, and then Ikalgo returned and closed the airlock. "Is it done?" Killua said.

"They'll be very confused, then quite frightened, then they'll stop caring," Ikalgo confirmed. He slipped into the pilot's chair in the cockpit and disengaged the shuttle. The Kibron turned away and started moving in a straight line. It didn't stop. Ikalgo kept pace with it, re-established the dock, and remarked calmly, "we'll have no more than ten minutes. Everybody in."

They rushed through the airlock and Killua glanced down at the bodies on the deck. There were dozens of lethal gasses Ikalgo could have flooded the Kibron with. The problem with lethal gasses was that they took time to clear out of the ship. A crash-depressurization, on the other hand, was almost immediately fatal, incredibly debilitating, and possible on almost every ship in the Cardassian fleet, so far as Starfleet intelligence knew. Why, Killua had no idea, though it might have been a security measure or a way to fight infectious diseases.

*****

Either way, the effects of explosive decompression on Cardassians were profound. The cranial ridges were bruised a dark, ugly brown and swollen hideously to twice their normal size. Since they existed mainly as a way to radiate heat, they were full of thin capillaries, and the blood within had escaped the little passages and burst out of the skin, as well, sickly brown and oozing. Cardassian eyes, too, reacted poorly to vacuum, which was the main reason the crash decompression worked so well; every corpse they passed had two ragged, bloody holes where its eyes had been, the vitreous fluid boiled away by the low pressure. It left a sour, rotten smell under the metallic tang of the blood. 

*****

Three minutes in vacuum had been enough. Killua tried to be comfortable with the fact that Ikalgo could kill them all with the push of a button, but it wasn't exactly easy.

Ikalgo led them onto the bridge, and Killua pushed aside the body of the captain. "There's nothing to this ship. One deck, a deflector, five disruptors, and a torpedo launcher. How did they manage to need thirty people?"

"There's plenty to this ship if you're used to a labor camp," Razor said.

Ikalgo started working with the helm.

"You're not used to a labor camp," Killua objected. He glared up at the industrial ceiling. "You're three times the size of the labor camp itself. Cardassians call you 'sir' on reflex."

"Klingons call him 'sir' on reflex," Ikalgo said. Shoot tittered unflatteringly. "I've got the controls ready to go and the overrides shut down." He peered at the panel. "Good timing, too. Call for you, sir."

"Stay Cardassian," Killua said. "And execute that course, now. I'll take that call."

The main viewscreen at the front of the bridge filled with the puzzled face of Gul Dukat. "Glinn Verl..." he trailed off in the middle of addressing what Killua could only assume was the fresh corpse he'd rousted from the captain's chair.

"Good evening, Gul," Killua smiled. "We've taken the liberty of procuring one of your ships. Thanks so much for sending it along." He kissed the back of his hand and raised it up to show to the Cardassian commander. "Love and kisses."

The Kibron went to warp.

+----+

"Captain?"

Gon looked up from Kurapika's security report. Ensign Melody was standing in the door of the ready room, her normally cheerful face drawn in a concerned frown.

"Go on, Ensign." Gon made a little gesture to her to keep it going.

"I've just picked up something strange on the communications array. It almost looks like a starship prefix code, but it's very degraded and seems to have been focused directionally. It's like someone was trying to hit a distant target with a communication... beam."

"How likely is it to have hit us by chance?" Gon asked.

"The attenuation is severe, and the confinement has dropped off sharply. The cross-section of the signal is seventeen light months across at this distance. Lieutenant Krueger thinks it came from about twenty light years out. If the Lieutenant is right, the only two systems it could have come from are Dreon and Bajor.

"Both Cardassian," Gon noted. "Pull up that transmission on the main viewer. I'm coming out there."

"Yes sir," she said. Gon pushed himself up from his chair and came out to look at the data on the main viewscreen. Lieutenant Krueger was already working with Melody to refine it. They had a diagram up in the corner of the screen, with a cone pointing to a sphere some three light years across. Bajor and Dreon were contained in the sphere. The sphere was slowly contracting, moving a little towards the side with Bajor, but occasionally wandering back towards Dreon. As Gon watched, it finally left Dreon behind. He looked at the raw transmission data and huffed a little. "That's a Cardassian code. Looks like prefix, all right. Commander Zushi, Commander Kaito, Lieutenant Krueger, my ready room. We're going to figure out what to do about this."

+----+

"That's it. We're fucked." Killua kicked the nearest console and watched it throw up a shower of sparks. The Cardassians had managed to punch the Kibron's prefix code through the interference Killua had gotten the warp coils putting out, and turned the ship around before they could stop them. He kind of wanted to be impressed with Shoot for doing the simple thing and firing a phaser directly into the starboard warp coils, but it was exactly the sort of reckless move that killed crews, exploded ships, and ended missions. Half the systems on the ship were blown out, and the energy feedback had blown Shoot's arm clear off. At least the atmosphere had gone from smelling like dead Cardassians to smelling like dead electronics. Blue smoke hung around them in infuriating curls. "They're going to send a Galor after us, and they're going to torture us. We need to figure out a way to run, but we can't do that with just one warp coil and this ugly debris field in the making doesn't have any shuttles."

"We could rig it to explode. Take out the Galor and hope Dukat's on it." 

Killua glared at Razor. "I've heard smarter ideas. Get started."

One of the consoles started whistling.

"Already?" Killua muttered. He went to the console and leaned back away from it. "We have a ship incoming from astern. Starfleet." He smiled. "I think our luck just turned around."

He wrestled with the controls for a minute, and got the external display up on the viewer. The Kibron was corkscrewing slowly, and the starfield wheeled over and over a couple of times while he waited, and then, with the suddenness typical of exits from high warp, a ship appeared.

A _big_ ship. She had an oval saucer section perched like a hunkered-down animal on top of a squat-but-streamlined engineering hull. Two long warp nacelles rested on swept-back pylons, and a third, much shorter pylon dangled the blatant threat of a self-contained torpedo launcher system beneath her hull. The bottom of her saucer proudly declared her identity: NCC-65212, and behind that, smaller, USS Olympia.

Killua hurried to hail the ship, and was greeted by a soft feminine voice.

_"This is the Federation starship Olympia--"_

Killua interrupted her. "We're running from the Cardassian occupiers on Bajor. We request asylum!"

+----+

Gul Dukat was trying to burn holes in the sensor screen. He might lose his ship if he tried to tangle with the Starfleet vessel that had undoubtedly just stolen his prisoners. He'd heard about that class of starship. Three of them had demolished a task force at Meggen two years ago. He would have to try diplomatic channels, of course, but that didn't mean he had to take no aggressive actions whatsoever. He called for his intelligence head. The man was a former Obsidian Order operative. He would handle this. As the starship Meskel closed with the Federation ship, the pale head of intelligence for Bajor Operations stepped up to Dukat's side.

"Glinn Hisoka," Dukat said.

"Yes, Gul?" Hisoka shot back. Always testing limits.

"These Bajorans have escaped my grasp. I can't do anything without starting up another war. You're going to have to kill them for me."

"They took a Hideki class ship with five people," Hisoka pointed out.

"I never promised you easy assignments," Dukat began to reply, but Hisoka shook his head.

"You misunderstand, Dukat. I was telling you why I'm going to enjoy this so much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to google things for that paragraph about the bodies that probably got me put on several watchlists.
> 
> Hisoka is disturbing. I won't be doing the Cardassian perspective often in this, but it was either unusual sidetrip now or clunky expositional dialogue several chapters down the line.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our boys finally meet in this chapter. It... does not go well at first.

_Pronouns, pronouns, pronouns, pronouns,_ Gon thought to himself as the Cardassian ship dropped out of warp. It was a Galor class, one of the big ships that Gon had spent most of his Starfleet career trading blows with.

"They are hailing us," Melody said.

"Are the refugees on board?" Gon asked.

"We have them. One was badly injured. He's been brought to sickbay."

"Onscreen," Gon ordered.

A lean, somewhat shiftier-than-normal Cardassian appeared on the viewscreen. "Hello there," he said. "I'm Gul Dukat, prefect of Bajor, and I believe you've just retrieved a couple of citizens of the Cardassian Union." He smiled an oily little smile. "You can return them to me."

Gon reminded himself to use pronouns one more time. "Gon Freecs, captain of the Olympia. You are not getting them back. They've requested asylum."

Dukat laughed. "Asylum? Did they tell you what they were running from, Captain? Those are criminals."

"That remains to be determined. They'll be returned to Cardassian space if we determine that--"

"Did you not notice that they were in a stolen Cardassian ship?" The Gul was leaning forward now, irritation crawling across his face.

"That was apparent, yes. I imagine I would steal a ship if I were in a slave camp, as well. Don't act as if I have no idea what Bajor is like. I don't like lies, Dukat."

Dukat leaned back in his chair. "You're a straight shooter. Yes, I imagine they'll tell you that they're part of the 'resistance,' but that doesn't mean you should be pampering them. Those people killed fifty-two of mine." He spread his hands in a plaintive gesture. "You should have seen what was on the ground when we checked. It was brutal. One of them had been poisoned. One was asphyxiated. I'm not looking forward to boarding the Kibron at all."

Gon stood to approach the screen a little closer. "If I'm told to hand them over to Cardassian authorities, I will. But only Starfleet command can tell me to do that. Feel free to wait here while we find out what's going to happen to them."

+----+

"You're not Bajoran," the shorter of the two Humans in the sickbay said. She ran her medical tricorder over Killua's body again as though the results of the scan might change.

"What did you say your name was?" Killua prompted. 

"Machi," she repeated. "Why?"

"Because you're not very bright." 

She shut the tricorder with a snap. "What are you, then, besides rude?"

"I think you mean I'm a dick. Be precise, Machi." The door opened and admitted what looked, at first, like a human, until Killua noticed the oddities. The hair was wrong, for one thing. Human hair didn't have such a _perfect_ disorderliness to it. The man's hairline was completely symmetrical: what irregularities it had on one side were mirrored exactly on the other. His eyes were a little closer together than Human eyes should be, and so vividly _golden_ that Killua found himself distracted and slightly lost in trying to name the shade. He had a flawless jawline, but his nose was too sharp and upturned to be entirely Human, either. And his lips were just _criminal._ It was patently unfair. Combined with the way he filled out a Starfleet uniform... Killua had worn them before, but the man in the door actually made the fucking jumpsuits look good, more than good, _sexy,_ and Killua would have sworn that was impossible. He was wearing captain's pips on his collar. When he moved across the room to talk to the doctor working on Shoot behind a medical forcefield, the uniform hugged his ass in ways that made Killua forgive it for every unflattering way it had ever sat on his own body. Clearly, the uniform just wasn't made for Killua. It was for this man, and possibly this man alone.

Killua shook his head, hard, and glared at the floor.

"Sir," Machi said.

"I have to talk to your captain," he said. He pointed. "Go examine Ikalgo." Killua crossed the room, took a deep breath, and said "Captain?"

The captain turned, and it wasn't fucking okay how he filled out that uniform. Killua glanced down to take in the other man's obnoxiously perfect form again and then cleared his throat.

Before he could say anything, Machi said, "sir, this man isn't Bajoran."

Killua turned slowly and gave her a look of purest venom. She backed off a few steps. "I'm Rutian," he said. "If you must know. Captain, I need to speak to you. Privately." The captain waved him to the doctor's little office area off to the side of the sickbay. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Killua said "computer, security override thirty-one alpha alpha two." The computer chirped its acknowledgement. Killua sat down opposite the captain, who had suddenly stiffened up and given him an odd look. 

"Captain, my name is Killua Zoldyck. I'm acting on behalf of the Federation under the orders of Admiral Isaac Netero. I need your ship."

The captain blinked a couple of times and tapped his combadge. Nothing happened. "What did you do to my computer?"

"I used an override that stops what we say from leaving this room."

"I need to talk to the Admiral," the captain said.

Killua shrugged and jammed his hands in his pockets. "Computer, cancel override. Authorization Zoldyck Omega Three."

+----+

"Starfleet Command has ordered me to provide safe haven to the refugees," Gon said to the deeply annoyed Cardassian on the viewscreen. "Please leave Federation space."

Gul Dukat sighed irritably. "I assure you, the Federation will be hearing from us on this matter." The screen altered to a view of space outside, and the Meskel turned, tractored the Kibron, and warped away.

"Right," Gon said. "Kaito has the course laid in. Wait half an hour, then engage." He started for the turbolift at the back of the bridge. "I have to talk to our guests."

The lift ride from the bridge to deck three, where Killua and his team were quartered, was long enough for Gon to get good and angry. He stormed out of the turbolift to the guest quarters Killua had been given and found them empty. He stared up at the ceiling. "Computer, locate Killua Zoldyck," he snapped.

"Killua Zoldyck is in sickbay," the computer told him.

Gon turned on his heel and took the Jefferies tubes to sickbay instead of the turbolift. He'd gotten himself all ready to start yelling, and of course his target wasn't there, and he couldn't just let loose on some random crewman, so he expressed his anger primarily through a very energetic descent. When he got to sickbay, Leorio was just putting the finishing touches on his reversal of Killua's facial alterations. The bridge of Killua's nose was flat, now, and the point a little further downturned, presumably by the lack of wrinkles pulling up on it. His chin had dropped a bit, getting a little pointer, but most jarring of all was that his hair, previously brown and combed back, was about five centimeters longer, incredibly shaggy, and almost entirely stark white, save for a single iron grey streak near the left. As Gon watched, Leorio finished altering Killua's skin tone from the bronzey look he'd had in his Bajoran disguise to a much paler tone.

"Captain!" the doctor said. "Come to check on my one-armed patient?"

"Actually, I was looking for mister Zoldyck." Gon glanced at the biobed with Shoot on it. "How is he?"

"Stable." Leorio frowned at the injured man. "He nearly bled out. I'll tell you when he wakes up."

"Thanks, Leorio," Gon said. He looked at Killua. "You. With me."

Leorio flinched at the pronoun. He'd known Gon long enough to catch the cue. "How'd he piss you off?"

"Classified," Gon growled. He led Killua to the guest quarters and rounded on him the instant they were in Killua's room. Gon pointed at the nearest chair. Killua sat. "I don't appreciate having my ship commandeered. I don't like being told to violate Starfleet regulations. And I especially don't like being made to lie to my crew! You are going to tell me exactly what I'm flying into, or I am going to give you a shuttlecraft and drop you at the Cardassian border. I'm not committing an act of war without a very good reason!"

Killua flinched. "We're building an army."

"An army? How?"

The Rutian picked at an imaginary speck of dirt on the top of the table next to him. "There's a Kisstani class freighter near the coordinates we're going to. The CUS Nakata. It's carrying Bajoran slaves, and a lot of them. We're going to liberate them and then use them as an army in the Kendra Valley."

"Use them... anyone who doesn't want to fight is going to stay on this ship and be delivered to Federation space as a refugee."

Killua clearly wasn't happy about it, but he nodded. "Agreed. Does Captain Gon have anything else he needs?"

Gon almost missed it. It sounded so natural that he nearly skipped right over, but then he blinked and said "What did Killua just say?"

"Oh, Gon doesn't want to rip my spleen out through my nose now?" Killua sighed. "The doctor told where Gon is from and all about his language... thing. I can be respectful."

Gon sat down. "Why is it that the people who take the time to be nice about it are all people I want to hurt?"

"Does Gon really want to hurt me?" Killua asked.

Gon shrugged. "Less, now that Killua showed he's respectful. That was... very sensitive and sweet. Thanks. I'll take the ship into Cardassian space and we'll rescue those Bajorans."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Killua. Halfway through his first look at Gon, the Deltan pheromones hit and he went all gooey.


	6. Chapter 6

Killua watched the stars, distorted and warped and moved around by the Olympia's warp field. He'd never been on a ship this modern before. He'd been escorted from Rutia aboard an old Miranda class, delivered to his first assignment for Section 31 by a Sydney class transport, dropped on Bajor by an aging cargo ship. The Olympia had a _lounge,_ for fuck's sake. There was a grizzled old Human working the bar, his Starfleet uniform seeming very out of place behind the long counter. That Starfleet regulations allowed a drink or two was nice, but Killua had ordered something called a Shirley Temple one of his friends in training had introduced him to. He had no idea who Shirley was, or where to find her temple, but apparently they served good drinks.

Knuckle sat down across from him, clutching a tall mug of something electric blue. "Are we going after the Cardassians?"

Killua nodded and pulled at the sweet drink on the table in front of him. "I bullied the captain into it."

"Was that before or after you checked out his butt?" Knuckle asked.

Killua spluttered a bit and shot Knuckle a glare. "He's a Deltan. I couldn't help it. It's unfair."

"I hear he visited your quarters."

Killua entertained a brief fantasy of killing the big Bajoran with his drinking glass. "Yes. To discuss our mission. At which point I played politics a little and he agreed to help." Knuckle opened his mouth to make what would surely have been an odious reply, and Killua shut him down. "Not that he actually had a choice."

"What if we're stopped by the Cardassians?" Knuckle asked.

Killua thunked a foot on the floor. "In this? We fuck 'em up."

+----+

"It's definitely a Galor, sir."

Gon glared up at the ceiling. The transaluminum dome didn't have anything helpful to add. "Do they have us on sensors?"

"Not for another two minutes or so," Lieutenant Krueger said.

"Right." Gon frowned at the stars going by overhead. "How much time will we add to our little side trip if we just avoid them?"

"Almost two days," the Lieutenant replied.

"Full stop," Gon ordered.

The stars condensed to static points and he called for his senior crew, then, with a little sigh, Killua and Ikalgo to go to conference room one.

By the time everyone was there, Bisky had the Galor on the little wall screen, its progress monitored by a tiny dotted line behind it and its course predicted by a narrow wedge ahead of it. Olympia's own position was marked by a little blue dot. Zoldyck was the last to come in, and he immediately growled "Why the hell have we stopped?"

Gon pointed to the last free chair. "Sit down and I'll explain." The white-haired alien eased himself into a chair while Gon gestured at the wall screen. "This is a Galor-class ship moving at low warp. They'll take a day and a half to cross our path far enough that they won't detect us."

"So take them down," Killua said. "I don't see how this is a problem."

"We're not exactly flying around in one of those Nebula class monsters. This ship is a match for one Galor, but only just. If we attack, they'll call for reinforcements, and the next ship that arrives will probably kill us. Dukat only backed down because he was in Federation space." Gon watched the display for a moment. The Galor moved a little and its projected course narrowed in response. "Besides, they haven't done anything to us."

"They're in our way," Killua argued.

"And we're not attacking them." Gon looked at his assembled crew. "But as it will take days to go around them, I'd like to hear some suggestions."

"We could change our warp signature," Lieutenant Petrov suggested.

"And imitate what?" Bisky asked pointedly. "The only innocent ships that put out as much power as our warp coils run light years away from here at half our speed."

"What if we acted like another Galor?" Zushi looked around to see what the others thought of his suggestion. He was met with contemplative frowns.

"A logical suggestion," Kurapika commented with a raised eyebrow. "Lieutenant Petrov, is it possible?"

Colt's face scrunched up in concentration. "I think so. Won't they wonder why we're coming straight from Federation space at high warp?"

"A Galor can only make warp eight point five, and that's flat-out," Kaito said. "We were doing nine-one. If we're going to look like a Galor, we have to move like one, too. It doesn't matter how good our excuse for coming out of Federation space is if we're that obviously not a Galor."

"Lieutenant Petrov, get started," Gon said. "Bisky, Kurapika, Melody, work together on our excuse for running at warp... um, however fast straight away from the Federation." He fixed Killua with a glare. "Mister Zoldyck, stay there. Everyone else. Dismissed."

+----+

The senior staff filed out, leaving Killua alone with the captain. In the sudden quiet, the noise of the engines seemed unusually loud. Gon was staring at him unhappily.

"I don't want to hear Killua suggest attacking people who haven't done anything to deserve it again," Gon said into the silence.

"People who haven't... Gon... Captain, they are protecting slavers." Killua emphasized the word by smacking a fist down on the table hard enough that it rattled a bit. "Why does Gon think they're innocent?"

"Because they are," Gon growled. "Whatever Killua saw on Bajor, it doesn't make every Cardassian guilty. Going around killing them because they're the same species... That will only make Killua as bad as Dukat."

Killua jumped up and started around the table. "I am not as bad as Dukat!"

"Prove it. Killua talks to me so I'm comfortable. Obviously Killua can be better than Dukat."

Killua watched him. Alone in the conference room, he was struck by just how overpowering the other man's... appeal... was. And like an idiot, he'd got up and approached him. Gon wasn't helping matters any. When he thought he was right, his face took on a stern, powerful look. Golden eyes cold under beetled eyebrows, lips set in a firm line, his whole body tense. He had his hands up on the table, his pupils focused like phasers on Killua. Killua took in a deep breath and tore his eyes away. He stared at the wall screen. The Galor was still making its slow progress across the multiple parsecs on the display. "I talk to Gon so he's comfortable because people do helpful things when they're comfortable."

Gon shifted around behind Killua, and suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder. "I think that's what Killua tells himself," Gon said. He left the conference room with one last parting shot. "I still don't want to hear Killua say we should kill people for being in our way."

As the doors hissed shut, Killua sat heavily in the chair the captain had just left. "Just because it's what Killua tells himself doesn't mean Killua's wrong," he muttered softly to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cardassian ships are shit. The New Orleans Class isn't exactly a big honkin' capital ship, though. Olympia can tangle on an even keel with one Cardassian capital ship, but Galors aren't usually very far from each other, and she can only take on two if Gon's willing to lose a lot of crew.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The New Orleans Class is a bit of an oddball design. Its size places it in light cruiser territory, most of the fandom calls it a frigate, and it looks like a blatant threat with all those torpedo pods. I've plopped a Ten Forward type lounge down in it to keep in line with its crew-to-ship size ratio and the general largeitude of the ship itself. Figuring out which deck to put it on was something of a chore. I eventually settled, somewhat arbitrarily, on deck six. It looks like that's about where the forward edge of the saucer sits, and if not, then we'll just have to assume Starfleet's shipbuilders put lounge space in whatever spot was convenient.

Gon watched the sensor screen warily. Ultimately, they'd decided to drop to warp seven and run with a noticeable wobble in the warp field. Olympia's warp coils wouldn't appreciate the treatment, but, as Bisky had remarked, they were young and shouldn't complain. She'd shot meaningful glances at Gon and his chief engineer when she said it.

The warp signature they were putting out had been charmingly described by Lieutenant Krueger as "filthy." It was sure to draw the attention of the Galor, but it would also lend credence to their story.

"They are hailing us now," Melody said. "We must have hit their sensor screens."

"They're late," Gon remarked. "Ensign Melody knows the plan."

Melody answered the hail with audio only, her console beginning to put out the sounds expected of a heavily-damaged Cardassian warship. She'd isolated them from the audio of Gul Navern's surrender at Aiai. The voice of a Cardassian Gul barked at them through the ensign's console in the Cardassian language. Razor, sitting next to her, listened for a moment and then replied. Turning off the universal translator had been incredibly frightening, but, Gon reflected, Razor was pretty impressive. Besides being the size of a shuttlecraft, he was able to put the finishing touches on the illusion of a damaged ship running with its tail between its legs from some new Starfleet monster. The huge man leaned back in his seat after several minutes of tense conversation. Melody cut off the damaged-starship noises and turned the translator back on. 

"Well?" Gon said.

Razor smiled. "They were very suspicious at first, but no one in the Federation speaks their language."

"Thousands of Federation citizens speak their language," Gon objected.

"It would be imprudent to advise the Cardassians of their error," Kurapika noted from the back of the bridge. Gon snorted back laughter with only limited success.

"Anyway, they asked if they could help," Razor reported. "I told them that the Starfleet ship left us at the border and we were just going to put in at the repair station at Soufrabi. They sent us a course correction."

"Follow that, Kaito," Gon ordered. "We want to get our repairs quickly, after all."

"That will add about three hours to our travel time through their sensor range," Lieutenant Krueger pointed out.

"We don't have much choice," Gon said. He tapped his combadge. "Lieutenant Petrov."

"Yes sir?" the engineer called back.

"We're altering course a little. I think we'll be able to 'fix' our warp engines in a couple of hours. Make it convincing."

+----+

The door chimed. Killua waved at it. "Come in."

It opened with a hiss. "Killua?" Gon said behind him.

"Mmm? Sorry, just watching the stars. What does Gon need?"

"Leorio says Shoot just woke up."

Killua sighed. "I'll go see him in a bit. Has Razor gone?"

"Knuckle, too. It was sweet, but weird. I think those two are a little too attached to each other." Gon sat down on the edge of Killua's bunk. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Killua turned his chair to face into his quarters instead of out at the stars. "This ship is too big. The only place I've ever had this much room to live in was on Earth, when Section 31 trained me to be an agent. How do people keep from going soft in quarters like this?" He looked at Gon. "Maybe I'm asking the wrong person."

"Does Killua think I'm soft?"

"I don't know. Does Gon think we should turn around if the Nakata has an escort?"

The captain's face had a tendency to go sort of blank when he was concentrating on a question. His lips drew down into a very slight frown and his eyes went a little blank while he rummaged through his head for the right answer. It could, and probably should, have made him look dopey, but Killua found the whole thing frustratingly charming. 

"There are escorts we can't take on," Gon said finally. "If I didn't have to worry about my crew, I'd be braver, but there are two hundred people on this ship. If there are Galors guarding that ship, we turn around. Killua will have to find his army somewhere else."

Killua shook his head. "Even if it's only one?"

"Killua thinks this ship is tougher than it is," Gon said coolly. "We can beat a Galor, but it won't be easy. We'll lose Killua's army anyway if we try."

"Who told Gon that?" Killua asked.

"Lieutenant Krueger knows a lot," Gon said. He stood up to go, but Killua grabbed his arm.

"Captain... Gon... I... Gon was right." Gon blinked, his face blank again. "I don't talk to Gon so he's comfortable because I want him to do things for me. I do it because I want Gon to like me."

"Does Killua know what usually happens to people Deltans like?" Gon asked. "It's not pretty." He looked at the floor. "Killua should go see Shoot."

+----+

Gon breathed a little easier as the Olympia moved out of the Galor's sensor range. They'd received--and bluffed their way through--a gruff congratulation for fixing their fictional warp coil troubles two hours earlier. Colt was complaining vigorously about what running with a flux for nine hours had done to his engines. Zushi was complaining about what running slow through Cardassian space was doing to the crew. Killua was quiet, which should have been a relief.

Gon excused himself to go brood in his ready room. Olympia was already pushing warp nine point two, and Kaito would be bringing her up to nine-five as soon as Colt gave the word. There were times when standing on the bridge and giving orders felt a lot like being completely unnecessary. Stars blurring in the window for his only companion, and Gon felt like the distant noise of the engines was entirely too loud. Or maybe too quiet. Killua probably hadn't even meant he wanted Gon to like him in that way, but it was frustrating to no end anyway.

Not, Gon reflected, that he was particularly attracted to Killua. Or to anyone, really. Attraction was something Deltans were taught to bury in order to function in Federation society. It just... kept coming up. He was lucky none of his crew had got down on their knees to confess their attraction to him. He briefly considered sending a message to Palm, but that was neither helpful nor healthy.

He heaved a sigh and spun himself halfway around on his chair with a light push. When his momentum died, the chair swung back around to a point facing what had to be the blankest section of wall on the ship. Apparently, that was just where the swivel mechanism liked to rest. Swivel chairs had first been developed by a Federation member race nearly a thousand years earlier, but nobody could make one that didn't preferentially spin the sitter to a point that was inevitably about forty-five degrees off of useful.

It was all so much easier when the Cardassians were trying to steal Federation territory. Slugging matches, starship-to-starship, were easy. Full spread of torpedoes, concentrate phaser fire on the engineering section, if we win, well done, crew. If we lose, it's been an honor.

"Maybe I should put Kurapika in charge while we're doing all this spy stuff," Gon muttered. He spun the chair back and forth a few more times and finally shoved himself up from it and emerged back onto the bridge.

"That was quick, sir," Kaito said. "Is something--"

"Commander Zushi has the conn," Gon said. "I'm going to go and check on our guests. Killua's been quiet, and it makes me suspicious. Computer, locate Killua Zoldyck."

"Killua Zoldyck is on deck six, section one," the computer informed him as he stepped into the turbolift.

Gon hesitated for a bare few moments before sending the lift to the ship's lounge. It probably wasn't the ideal place to meet with Killua after the last thing he'd said to him, but he didn't seem to have much choice.

Gon straightened his uniform as he entered the lounge. Ikalgo, wearing his Bajoran face, was chatting with Killua. Gon made his way over to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucked up the size of the Olympia's crew in the first chapter. I'm not fixing it. Star Trek has to have bizarre technical inconsistencies.
> 
> Poor Gon hasn't figured out his emotions yet.


	8. Chapter 8

Ikalgo gestured towards the door as it opened. Killua turned to see Gon walking towards him. He turned back to Ikalgo with a pleading look on his face.

"Don't look at me," the shapeshifter said. "It's your problem." Gon sat down at their table. Ikalgo stood up. "I'll leave you kids alone," he said, and he walked out. Killua watched him go. The doors, with their nice transaluminum inlays, hissed shut and left Killua alone with the captain and the bartender.

"I am not having this conversation," Killua muttered.

Gon waved at the NCO behind the bar and ordered himself a synth-vodka Bloody Mary. "Shirley Temple," Killua said when the bartender shot him a questioning look. 

They sat in silence for a minute or two before their drinks arrived. "Dismissed, crewman," Gon said quietly. 

The bartender blinked. "Where should I go, sir?"

Gon shrugged. "Doesn't matter. The crewman is off duty now. Dismissed."

The Human left with a vaguely confused look. "That was rude," Killua noted.

"Does Killua know what it's like to be a Deltan?" Killua opened his mouth, but Gon waved his hands to cut off the reply. "Killua has no idea. I had to take a vow of celibacy to join Starfleet. I was born on Delta itself, so I didn't meet a non-Deltan until I was twelve."

"There's a reason Gon is telling me this," Killua said.

"I assume the only reason people want me to like them is sex," Gon mumbled. "I'm usually right, but I'm afraid I might have offended--"

"Don't worry." Killua pulled at his drink. The door opened behind him. He turned and fixed a dirty look on the little Orion woman who had just come in. She walked right back out. "I was... obviously, Gon is attractive. I'm not stupid. Section 31 briefed me on everything in known space that can affect my mind. Vulcan mind-melds, Betazoid telepathy, Orion females..." He sighed. "I've met Deltans twice before. I killed one of them. Gon has to understand, I'm not ignorant and I'm not just reacting to Gon's pheromones. I have to know myself pretty fucking well, okay? Gon is kind to his crew, concerned with honor, and believes I can be..." Killua stood up and walked over to the big windows that looked out into space ahead of the Olympia. "I thought we weren't having this conversation."

"Killua can be better than he is," Gon said. "I looked up Section 31 in the Starfleet Charter. Killua is an assassin. I know. That's how secret organizations like Section 31 work. But Killua is working to save Bajor. To save Bajorans. Killua is doing good things, and he's doing them because they're good things." Killu watched Gon's reflection as the Captain stood and stepped up behind him, drinking the piquant concoction in his hand down with unseemly speed. He set it down and stopped a couple of feet behind Killua. "I see what Killua can be. I looked up Rutia, too. Killua was a terrorist. A freedom fighter."

Killua turned to face him, leaning on the window. "I was an assassin for them, too. What do--what does Gon want me to say? I don't regret killing people! Gon thinks I'm some kind of saint, but I'm not. I'm a murderer!"

Gon reached out and grabbed Killua's shoulders, gripping tightly and thumping him against the window. "Killua doesn't have to be a murderer! He can be better than that! He helps people, helps Bajor!"

Killua stood stunned for a moment before he twisted out of Gon's grip. "Maybe, but I won't. I work for Section 31. I want Gon to like me, but it won't happen." Killua retrieved his drink from the table, downed it all at once, and left.

+----+

"How many are there?" Gon asked as Killua and Ikalgo stepped onto the bridge. 

"Three, sir," Lieutenant Krueger said. 

"It's a fucking wolf pack," Killua growled when the science officer brought up the Nakata on the screen. The cargo ship was escorted by three smaller ships, represented on the tactical display by a little top-down picture of a Hideki class ship. "Are we sure that's what they are?"

"Um," Krueger said. She glanced at Gon. 

Gon sighed. "How sure is Lieutenant Krueger?"

"Fairly certain, sir. If they are Hidekis, we can jam their communications before they figure out we're not a Galor."

"But we'll be fighting at a disadvantage. Those aren't Orion raiders. It doesn't pay to underestimate Hidekis." Gon turned to look at Killua. "Is it worth it to risk restarting the war?" Killua was no help. He just watched Gon impassively. "How did Killua steal a Hideki in the first place?"

"I got them to send me one. Distress call."

Gon shook his head. "That would get one of them off-course."

"Not if it's an attack," Killua pointed out. "Have they detected us yet?"

"No," Zushi said. "What's your plan?"

"How fast is the fastest shuttle on this ship?" Killua bulled on as though Zushi hadn't asked anything.

"Warp five," Gon said. Killua glanced at the information displayed on the viewscreen. Gon knew the Nakata and her escorts were only making warp three point five. He could also guess at Killua's plan. "Absolutely not, Killua. Find another way. I'm not sacrificing anyone and I'm not handing the Cardassians an empty shuttle."

"There is no other way," Killua said. "I know the New Orleans class. You don't have any high-speed probes that could send a convincing enough distress call."

"Then we go in direct--"

"We can't go in direct," Killua said. "If Gon doesn't think the Olympia can do this fight--"

"I never said we couldn't." Gon stared at the floor. "But I won't guarantee that my crew gets killed."

Killua watched the screen for a moment. Gon followed his eyes to where Olympia glowed, a steady dot on the lower left. "Fine," the Rutian snapped. "Do what you want."

Gon flinched a little at the pronoun. He hadn't realized how attached he was to the way Killua spoke to him. He tried not to watch him go. He only barely succeeded.

+----+

Shoot leaned on Knuckle and stared at Killua. "Where did you get all those overrides?"

Killua snorted and toed aside the Starfleet officer who'd been guarding the shuttlebay. His phaser had been set to stun, but it wasn't exactly a _polite_ stun. The man would be down for hours. "I have sources," he said, cheerfully explaining exactly nothing. "You have the settings memorized?"

"Yes," Knuckle said. He grabbed a pair of EVA hardsuits off the wall. "Let's go before it's too late."

Killua's fingers danced across the shuttlebay controls, and around them, the Olympia shuddered and the lights dimmed. An alarm sounded, and the deck went silent. The background thrum of the engines vanished, but the more immediate sound of the shuttlebay doors opening began. Killua took a deep breath. The forcefield holding atmosphere inside was still up. He'd never actually had to use a Section 31 prefix code before. It was a relief to see that commands like "shut down everything but the shuttlebay" actually worked. Knuckle dragged his injured friend down towards the shuttle they were going to take. Killua glanced at the name on the side. _Spider Eagle._ Knuckle and Shoot made their way inside, Shoot's one remaining leg thudding hard on the deck every couple of steps.

"Come on, come on, come on," Killua muttered. The shuttle's hatch closed, and it lifted off, less than perfectly smooth, but good enough. As soon as Knuckle had the shuttle clear, he pointed its nose "up" and the little ship's tiny warp nacelles flared blue. It was gone, screaming through space at warp five. Killua stood at the console and did nothing. It took about fifteen minutes for someone to start working on opening the door. By the time they had it open, by Killua's math, the Olympia would have been unable to avoid a fight for half an hour. They'd been nearly within the Hidekis' sensor range when he shut everything down. 

Gon appeared in the door and raised up a phaser rifle. He didn't give Killua a chance to surrender, which was probably wise. Killua wasn't about to pull anything else, but Gon didn't know that.

Being stunned hurt like a son of a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the most Killua-and-Gon argument I've ever written.
> 
> For those wondering: when Killua walked onto the bridge, the Olympia was matching speed and course with the Nakata well outside her escorts' sensor range. When Killua left, Gon gave the order to accelerate to maximum warp and prepare for combat. At that point, Killua had ten and a half minutes to get his shuttle out before he was stuck with Gon's plan.
> 
> He took ten.


	9. Chapter 9

"You shut down my ship IN THE MIDDLE OF CARDASSIAN SPACE, stole a Starfleet shuttlecraft, filled it with dangerously unstable explosives, and sent it out UNDER THE CONTROL OF TWO FOREIGN NATIONALS in direct defiance of MY ORDERS!" Gon slammed a fist into the bulkhead next to the brig. The forcefield flickered a little and the wall next to Killua's bunk rattled. And now Gon's hand hurt. "You're lucky I didn't come in with a phaser set to kill!"

Killua just sat there, silent. "Well?" Gon prompted. 

"Has Colt restored power?"

"Yes," Gon growled.

"We should probably go after the Nakata."

"I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to go through with helping you." Gon kicked at the forcefield. It buzzed a little and the weird resistance of the thing made it feel like kicking someone in the shins. "I think I should turn around and go home."

"Gon knows I'll stop him if he tries."

Gon rolled his eyes. "Good luck. I've shut down all the internal sensors in here. The only computer input in this room is being guarded by an angry Tellarite with a phaser, and you're on the other side of this forcefield from him."

Killua looked around his cell. "Gon... we can't just leave those people to die. I wasn't lying. The Nakata--"

"Might have slaves on it. Might. I might be about to assault an innocent Cardassian freighter."

"Then what--"

"I've launched a probe. More than fifty lifesigns on that ship and I might, possibly, think about going through with your plan. I don't trust you. I don't trust you to have told me the truth. And I don't trust you to be outside of this brig. You or your shapeshifter." He pointed at Ikalgo, still languishing under a heavy stun in the other cell.

"I..." Killua looked down at the floor. "I respect Gon's choice. Gon is protecting his crew and the Federation. But I did what I had to."

"You think I didn't consider the risks?" Gon pressed his hands hard against the forcefield. It crackled and sparked painfully against his palms, but he ignored it. "I knew what I was doing. You just assumed I'm--"

Killua jumped to his feet and suddenly had his hands pressed against the forcefield, exactly where Gon's were. "Use my name," he hissed, barely audible over the field. "Dammit, Gon... use my name. Gon Freecs doesn't hate Killua Zoldyck. I know it." He whispered into the buzzing between them, "please." Killua's head leaned forwards, against the field. It had to hurt, but he didn't flinch. Tears in his eyes, he said, "I was swimming in pheromones, but there aren't any in this cell, and I thought I would feel different, but all I want is for Gon to use my name. I... I think I love Gon."

Gon stepped back from the forcefield. He stared at the deck under his feet for a moment. "I'd like to believe Killua. But the only person in here is you."

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. The door sensor was just as disconnected as the rest of the room, so he had to pause to open the door with the control panel on the side. He marched to the bridge, but by the time he was there, there were tears in his eyes and he just wanted to curl up in his quarters. Gon rushed through the bridge, into his ready room. 

How could betrayal bring it all into such sharp focus? There was Killua, sitting in the brig, and the other man...

No one just loved a Deltan. It was all lust and desire. Deltan sex was basically a mind-meld, and it drove people mad because they weren't ready to be loved, they were never ready to be loved. When people got away from Deltans, the feelings evaporated. They were supposed to evaporate. Telepaths and touch-telepaths, non-telepaths with exceptional esper scores, those could survive the contact, but it still wasn't _love_ and it still vanished after they left, because the pheromones skewed it, they always skewed it. Killua couldn't be in love with him.

He couldn't love Killua.

The door opened. Zushi stepped in. "Sir," the Andorian said, "we've begun to receive relevant telemetry from our probe."

Gon stared out the window. "Collect the full sensor data, collate it, and report to me," Gon said. "Make sure the probe self destructs quietly when it's done. We can't let them see it."

"Sir," Zushi said, "Are you... is the captain all right, sir?"

"Yes," Gon lied. "I was just... thinking what to do with our prisoners."

+----+

The door hissed open and smoothed shut. Killua glanced up at the first officer and then back down at the deck. He ignored whatever was going on until the commander ordered the guard out of the room for two minutes. He looked up curiously, watching while the guard left.

The Andorian walked up to Killua's cell, shut the forcefield off with a sharp buzz, and marched inside to curl fists into the front of Killua's shirt, lifting him off the deck and slamming him into the bulkhead. "What did you do?" Zushi growled.

Killua stared. "What--"

"I don't know what you did to my captain, but you are going to find a way, and you are going to fix it!" The commander's blue skin was flushed dark, his antennae curled forward in anger, his lips drawn back in a probably-instinctual threat display. "He is sitting in his ready room, crying, and looking like a lost _delnar."_

"Why do you care?" Killua snapped.

"Because he is my captain," Zushi said in a low growl. "He is a good man," he went on, a little louder. "He trusts me to be the best I can," Zushi's voice rose further, and he ended on a shout. "And you have broken him and I WANT HIM FIXED!" He thumped Killua up against the wall, hard.

Killua stared at his shoes. "Tell him I'm sorry. Tell him..." Killua looked up into the Andorian's eyes. They were purple. He looked away. All he wanted to see was golden eyes, like perfectly-cooked honey-bread, not full of anger or pain or betrayal, or even forgiveness. He just wanted golden eyes that looked at him like he hadn't done anything to hurt Gon in the first place. "Tell him I said Killua is still here to talk. Tell him I said Killua kind of hates this 'You' person for what he's done to Gon. Tell him... Tell him if he turns around to please pick up Knuckle and Shoot on the way."

+----+

The door opened up again. Zushi set down a PADD in front of Gon. "I've spoken to one of our prisoners, sir. He says... he says Killua is still there to talk. He said Killua kind of hates this 'You' person for what he's done to Gon. And he's asked that we make sure to pick up Knuckle and Shoot on the way back to Federation space if we turn around."

Gon picked up the PADD without responding. The probe had gotten fairly good resolution on the freighter, but from the distance the scan was done at, there was only so much they could tell. The heat signature was off; if there was a normal crew aboard, it should be a lot cooler. Bisky's conclusion was that there might be as many as seven hundred extra humanoids aboard, or several large energy-producers.

He looked up at Zushi. "Dismissed, Commander."

"Permission to speak freely, sir," Zushi said.

Gon waited. Shrugged. "Fine."

"Sir, I don't know what Killua said to you, but we've had him and his people aboard for nearly two weeks, and you've gone from obviously hating him to voluntarily spending extra time with him. He's eaten at the Captain's Table twice, you've invited him to sit in on nearly every meeting of the senior staff since you agreed to follow his mission, and you've spent more time alone with him than you have with me, Commander Kaito, or Lieutenant Paladiknight. Probably more time with him than with the three of us put together. I won't presume to know what there is between you, but there is definitely something, and when he disabled us to launch his mission, he hurt you because it felt like he was throwing that away. But sir, it's obvious that Killua is some kind of deep-cover Starfleet Intelligence. That means he took an oath, and it's pretty obvious to me that he wasn't happy about that oath conflicting with you. When I came in there, he was in tears, sir. And he'd been that way for a while. Please talk to him."

Gon nodded. "Dismissed, Commander," he said.

Zushi left the ready room. Gon kept reading the report. Five minutes later, he dried his eyes on the spare uniform undershirt he kept in his desk drawer and stepped out onto the bridge. "All right. We're going forward with this. Commander Kaito, intercept course on the Nakata, maximum warp. Lieutenant Krueger, prepare to jam communications the instant we're within range. Lieutenant Kurapika, disable their engines and communications as soon as we hit weapons range. We can expect the crew of that ship to be very angry, and we can't expect them to part with their victims without a fight." He looked around the Olympia's nerve center expectantly. "My crew has orders. They should be carrying them out." Everyone started moving at once. "Commander Zushi," Gon said. He beckoned his first officer to come closer. Zushi left the captain's chair behind.

"Sir?"

"Go down to the brig. I need experienced people ready to board that freighter. Get Killua and Ikalgo outfitted for combat, and put together six away teams. They won't be in charge of any of the teams, and they won't be on the same team. Tell Killua that if he wants to hear his name, he has to earn it."

"Yes sir," Zushi said.

"And Commander," Gon said before Zushi could turn away, "a first officer's job is to support his captain and anticipate his orders and needs. Until today, Commander Zushi has done very well at that." Zushi's face fell. Gon clasped his shoulder. "Today he went above and beyond that job. I'm grateful. Get to it, Commander."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, writing the Killua section was kinda heartbreaking.
> 
> Sometimes, the first officer's job is to tell the captain he's being a sulky idiot and needs to stop hurting crew morale and start dealing with his problems. The solution Zushi had in mind for this was probably not "give Killua body armor and a phaser, but at least Gon is doing something.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Balls, this chapter was a long one. There's a Hisoka scene at the end because neither Gon nor Killua is there to witness it, but it's plot relevant and seals up a plot hole.

Killua fiddled with the trigger mechanism on his phaser rifle. He fucking hated Starfleet phasers. Federation engineers seemed to be convinced that a proper trigger would completely ruin the weapon. He glanced up at the screen displaying their approach to the Nakata. The freighter followed the same general lines as the more common Kinda class, but it was almost twice the length and quite a bit older. After the losses of entire shipments to Starfleet, the Cardassians had taken to building smaller, faster, and more numerous cargo ships. He glanced at the Vulcan on his left, the Human on his right, back to the screen. He could hear Gon's voice ordering the Cardassians to stand down and prepare to be boarded.

What was left of the Cardassian ship's shields flickered once and vanished. Killua took a deep breath and waited while the shuttlepod with his boarding party launched. The Nakata hadn't even fired any weapons. Cooperation and ease made Killua immensely uneasy, and he fidgeted uncomfortably. Machi, the nurse who'd treated him when he first boarded the Olympia, was adjusting and readjusting her medical pack. 

Kurapika, the head of security, watched Killua as they left the starship's shuttlebay. 

"Team one has transported aboard," the officer in the copilot's seat reported. "Shuttlepod T'Pring is away. Team two is beginning--"

A section of the Nakata's hull flashed into vapor. A disruptor beam sliced silently across the void, lancing hard into the Olympia. "She's a Q-ship!" Killua shouted. Another of Nakata's hull panels vaporized, and a disruptor beam buckled sections of the Olympia's saucer. Killua ran for the transporter at the back of the shuttle. Kurapika moved to stop him. "No time for this," Killua snapped, and grabbed the Vulcan's hand as he went for a neck pinch. He slammed both of them into the transporter and snapped "computer, beam us to the Nakata!"  
The transporter began to hum as Nakata vaporized a third hull panel. 

He should have spotted it, Killua thought. Nakata had strange bulges where Kistani class ships usually didn't. Each of them was firing disruptor beams now on the unshielded Olympia. Killua's eyes tracked the third beam, sluggish in the grip of the transporter, and he tried to draw in a shocked breath when it smashed in the bridge module. The gasp Killua took in was too warm, though, and dry like a breath of air from a furnace. Startled gasps around him made him look up. Bajorans in cages--fucking hell, they didn't even have the civility to put them behind forcefields--stared with reluctant almost-hope. Somewhere beneath Killua's feet, the telltale soft whoosh of firing disruptors sounded. 

"What are we doing here?" Kurapika said.

"They're going to destroy the Eliot and the T'Pring as soon as they've finished disabling the Olympia." Killua started looking around for the exit. "If they're allowed to get word of this out, they'll broadcast the offense to other major powers. The Klingons will probably abandon their alliance with the Federation over 'dishonorable behavior,' the Gorn will gleefully go to war... we'll all be fucked. We have to stop them."

"You have chosen to risk the Federation over seven hundred and twelve slaves," Kurapika said. He started towards one end of the room.

"Look, you pointy-eared fuckbowl," Killua growled, "I don't get into fights if I don't know I can win. I wasn't risking anything. The Nakata being a Q-ship... I couldn't have seen that coming."

"How do you propose to escape?" Kurapika asked. "You have seen the damage done to Olympia. As far as we have seen, she has lost her starboard impulse engine, dorsal phaser array, and bridge, and the Nakata continues to fire." Disruptors whooshed from below again, as though illustrating the third officer's point.

"The bridge is gone," Killua said, "but they took out long-range communications and engines as soon as the shields were halfway down. All we have to do is destroy this ship."

"You do not intend to survive."

Killua stopped, shrugged, and started walking again. "I've been in love twice in my life, Lieutenant. The first person I loved was killed on my homeworld for speaking honestly. The second person I loved just died on that ship out there. I don't really care if I die right now."

+----+

The supply depot was burning. The Cardassian torpedo that took out the shields had detonated forcefully enough to ignite the atmosphere, and the plasma wash had set everything ablaze. Gon was roasting in his armor for the sheer heat of it. He was one of the lucky ones. Most of the Starfleet personnel outside had been incinerated. Gon's phaser began to overload. He tossed it away, and it exploded on the dusty ground. 

Then the lightning struck. The raw power of ship-mounted beam weapons wasn't lightning, of course. It put lightning to shame. But the only way to know, looking at it, being close to it, that it wasn't lightning, was the way the blinding light followed a perfectly straight path to the ground. The shockwave felt a bit like being killed. It recalled to mind a breakfast he'd been served on Earth by a disappointed friend who'd invited him to stay the night. The man had broken birds eggs into a pan and added a bit of cream, then beaten the living hell out of the mixture with a whisk. At the time, Gon could only think of how angry his friend had seemed, at himself, and at Gon. Now, what had seemed like an object lesson in learning when not to want more became a genuine fear.

The first thing of the shockwave to reach him was the groundwave, a sudden lurch in the deck beneath his feet, and he had been thrown straight up just in time for the shockwave in the air to toss him like a discarded toy against the bulkhead.

Gon tried to take in a sharp gasp, but there was no air. He opened his eyes. Gone was Setlik III, the second Cardassian assault a memory once more.

Gone, too, was the bridge. Ridiculously, artificial gravity was still going. The disruptor beam that split his ship open was gone, the superheated air all escaped out of the hole it had carved. Another beam slammed into the saucer not far away. He squeezed his eyes shut after getting a good look.

Bisky, Kaito, and Zushi had been in the center of the bridge. They were gone. Melody was already running for the turbolift. Gon opened his eyes again and fled for the lift. Running through vacuum was strange, almost like not running at all. Too quiet, no wind in his ears, sterile and cold, so cold. He palmed open the door and turned to usher Melody in. The Nakata fired again. One of the shuttles was already an expanding cloud of vapor. They struck the other and it burst. Melody rushed into the turbolift and the doors closed. Gon screamed in pain as air returned all too quickly. He would have died if he'd been in vacuum much longer, but reinflating collapsed lungs was agony.

His face was burned. He had at least six broken ribs. Blood flowed freely from the back of his head. His uniform had been fairly well obliterated by the blast. Olympia shuddered once more around him.

"Computer, raise shields," Gon ordered.

"Shields are offline," the computer responded.

"Auxiliary control," he ordered.

"Sir, we need to go to sickbay," Melody said.

"We can go to sickbay when there's only one starship left," Gon said. "Until then, we run the ship from auxiliary control. Computer, night shift crew to auxiliary control."

The turbolift hummed like the ship wasn't dying around it. The noise hurt Gon's head.

+----+

Killua scrambled up the catwalk's supports as the Cardassian guard continued to shoot at Kurapika. He hauled himself over the railing and ran up to twist the guard's neck. The dead man dropped to the floor. Killua kicked the body so that it fell off of the catwalk.

"That wasn't necessary," Kurapika said as the Cardassian rattled the top of the cageful of frightened Bajorans Killua had dropped him onto.

"Felt good, though," Killua said. He kicked the Cardassian's phaser down to the captives while Kurapika began to climb. "Cause chaos," he suggested.

"Actually, don't."

A phaser beam slammed into Kurapika, then speared the phaser Killua had just dropped down. Killua whirled.

A Cardassian smirked at him, phaser at the ready. His face, tall and thin with a very long, pointed chin, was practically built for smirking. The distinctive indent on the Cardassian's forehead had been filled in with pastel-green makeup or paint or ink. "Drop the phaser," he ordered.

Killua tossed his phaser over the side. The Cardassian twitched his own weapon to the side to run a blast of energy over the rifle. Killua moved, as fast as he could, to tackle the Cardassian.

The Nakata lurched hard, and then again and again. Killua's perfectly aimed pounce was fouled and he bounced off of the railing. He got a hand onto the Cardassian's phaser, wrenched it out of his grip, and was rewarded with a blow to the face.

The ship rocked hard. Killua was pressed against the railing.

"I think you forgot to kill something," he grunted.

"I'll correct it shortly," the Cardassian said, and dived for his weapon. Killua aimed a kick at his ass and sent him sprawling, then jumped. He landed hard on the fallen phaser and dropped in one smooth motion to draw his combat knife out of his boot. He came up to find the Cardassian rolled onto his back, ready to catch Killua's downswing. For a moent, they grappled. "Careful," the Cardassian said. "I'm starting to get a little turned on." He pushed and rolled until he had Killua on his back.

Killua tried to curl up into a ball, but the Cardassian, though not particularly large, still had weight and muscle on him. "Most people don't fight as well as you do." The Cardassian licked his lips. The ship rocked again, and the whoosh of firing disruptors sounded, followed by an explosion. "I've gotten hard already."

Killua pulled his left leg free. _Stop volunteering information,_ he thought but did not say, and kneed the man in the crotch. The Cardassian gasped, and another rocking explosion sent them both towards the edge of the catwalk. The Cardassian missed his grab and fell hard onto the cages below. Killua gripped one of them, losing his knife to the catwalk as he swung himself away toward the floor. He landed on his feet, but with too much momentum, and rolled over to slam hard into the nearest cage.

+----+

Hisoka groaned and rolled over. The obnoxious part was that the erection wouldn't go away. It was a _turn on_ of the highest order to fight someone who knew how to fight. He got to his feet and looked over the side of the cage. The Vulcan he'd shot was sprawled on the floor. He went to go check for a pulse. Body armor had saved him. Hisoka briefly considered killing the alien then and there, but it hardly seemed sporting, and besides, he would have no trouble with him. He took the Vulcan's phaser rifle and headed in the direction he thought the other Starfleeter had gone. 

Human? His prey had seemed subtly different from most Humans. Hisoka looked through the cages. The Bajorans were standing shoulder-to-shoulder. He briefly considered vaporising enough in each cage so that they would all be able to lie down and give him good line of sight, but it would take too long.

Something moved behind him. He turned. The Vulcan was standing up, a knife in his hand. Hisoka rolled his eyes. "The logical thing," he began, and got no further before the Vulcan screamed and charged him. The alien hit him low before he could think to react beyond shock that a Vulcan was giving in so blatantly to emotion. He was slammed hard against a cage, and the Vulcan leaned back to strike him, once, twice, again and again and again. Hisoka felt bones break in his face. Blood began to stream from his nose.

Hisoka recovered his wits enough to drop, and the Vulcan's next blow rattled the cage. With a primal scream, the Vulcan reached for him. Hisoka threw himself between the Vulcan's legs, but felt an incredibly strong hand close around his ankle, and suddenly Hisoka was flying through the air, maintaining a deathgrip on his stolen phaser rifle because he couldn't trust that the Vulcan had gone mad enough to be unable to use it. He landed with a thud and skidded a couple of meters on the smooth metal deck plating. He rolled up and found the Vulcan closing for a killing blow. What had been a move to bring his phaser into firing position became a hard blow with the barrel of the weapon. He caught the Vulcan beneath the chin and snapped his head up and back.

The Vulcan fell over backward, and the barrel of Hisoka's weapon began to throw sparks. He grabbed it by the emitter assembly and swung it down overhand. It connected with the Vulcan's head with a satisfying crack. Green blood began to ooze from his nose and pool around his head.

Hisoka tossed the broken weapon aside and grabbed the knife the Vulcan had been swinging at him. He had one more Starfleeter to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pointy-eared fuckbowl is my new favorite word for "vulcanoid," and I'm calling all Vulcans and Romulans that except for Spock and Sarek.
> 
> Tuvok doesn't get a pass, because he's awesome, but his character arc includes no quest to understand others, which makes him a bit of a fuckbowl.
> 
> Vulcans are incredibly strong. It's fucking uncanny. My biggest complaint about Star Trek Into Darkness is that Spock is shown getting his ass pretty much beat by Khan. It makes for a nice moment of power for Uhura rescuing him, but Spock should have been on equal footing or nearly so with Khan. For the record, yes, that does mean that I believe a Vulcan is fully capable of crushing a human skull with their bare hands like Khan did. One of the most destructive things in the Star Trek universe is a Vulcan who has flipped his shit the way Kurapika does here. Hisoka should count himself lucky.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All space battles are improved by the James Bond theme.

Gon leaned back against the captain's chair in auxiliary control. Blood was soaking the back of it, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open. Another ensign came in, and Leorio followed on his heels. Killua's huge Bajoran friend followed after, carrying a huge box of medical equipment.

"Mister Zepile," Gon ordered, "fire another... um..."

"Yes sir," the young lieutenant at the tactical station replied, launching another torpedo.

"Doctor," Gon said. "It was good for Leorio to come down here." His words were slurring. "I need a pand... a... a plaink... a painkiller. I can't... um..." he gestured vaguely at his head. "Think," he concluded. "With... you know, with hurting."

Leorio began to scan him. "Captain, you're bleeding internally."

"I thought... I mean," Gon looked around, staring at the consoles.

"Sir, we've taken out their last weapon emplacement," Zepile said.

"Good." Gon looked at Leorio. "Just patch me up okay--"

"When I said you were bleeding internally, sir," Leorio growled, "I meant that you were bleeding into your brain. I have to treat you."

"Fight's not over," Gon said.

"The fight is over, captain," Leorio insisted. "We've won. I have to operate or you're going to die."

"Oh." Gon frowned. "No point... I mean... operate... he's gone."

"I know," Leorio said. "And it's all terribly tragic."

"Sir," Melody said.

"Not now, ensign," Leorio snapped.

"But sir, I have... I have Killua Zoldyck on the comm."

Gon sat up straight. "Get him out!"

"Transporters are down," the crewman manning the engineering console told him.

Gon looked around, panicked. "Tell... Get him... Razor, you..." Leorio pressed a hypospray to Gon's throat. Blackness overtook him.

+----+

Killua crouched low. "If transporters are down, then you can't get me out," he hissed. "I'm going to destroy this ship before they manage to get a message out."

"Stand by for orders, mister Zoldyck," Melody insisted through the wall panel he'd hotwired.

"Orders from whom?" Killua growled. "The whole bridge was destroyed--"

"Look, you," Leorio's voice interrupted. "Just because I'm wrist-deep in the captain's brain right now doesn't mean his orders are any different. We're capturing that ship intact, so get your Rutian ass moving. Do what you have to, but the next time I see you--where the hell do you think you're going, Razor?"

"Gon's alive?" Killua breathed.

"Yes, for the moment. He's... all right, fine, Razor, but if I end up needing that scalpel, it's going into you by the least comfortable orifice. He took a hard blow to the head. I've had to set up a field surgery on the battle bridge."

Killua took a deep breath. "If he wakes up before I'm back, tell him... Tell him I meant every word." He looked around suspiciously. He'd found a little corner well away from most of the cages. Whatever the Cardassians had set up up to jam combadges wasn't blocking their own short-range comms. "And I've gone off to kill a Cardassian and I'll be back shortly."

Killua left the panel behind to sneak further into the cargo hold. Quiet footsteps, keeping low and moving quickly. The Cardassian couldn't be allowed to find him. He had to get away from the panel. There was no way the alien hadn't heard at least Leorio.

He would have preferred to move across the tops of the cages, but they were loose and rattled when touched. The things didn't even have doors. Simple, linked-bar construction, practical only in the age of the transporter. He rushed silently across the floor, gesturing to the caged Bajorans to keep quiet. Suddenly, one of them shouted. Killua straightened up to shush him and yelled as the Cardassian ran toward him, abandoning all pretense of stealth. A knife gleamed in his hand, a Starfleet issue combat knife. Killua danced gracelessly back away from the flashing blade and raised his arm to take the blow. The knife sliced into his armor. The stuff was made for taking energy weapons fire, ablating nicely under the energies of a phaser or disruptor blast, but it couldn't hold up to bladed weapons very well. The blade slid across Killua's flesh, not a solid contact, but enough to cut him. Blood welled down his left arm, drops of it running from his fingertips.

Killua kicked at the Cardassian, feebly, more to put distance between them than in the hopes of hurting him. They both recovered their balance, and Killua watched his enemy. The Cardassian's fight with Kurapika must have gone poorly. The bottom half of his face was covered in brown blood, his right eye beginning to go a little puffy, his nose squashed flat. 

The Cardassian stepped forward. Killua whirled and climbed the nearest cage. The Cardassian moved to follow, and got on to the cage, but as Killua's left hand slipped and slowed him, the Bajorans in the cage reached out to lift him up towards the top. Those who weren't helping him were gripping the Cardassian, pulling him down. Killua reached the top of the cage and ran, jumping across three cagetops and dropping to the floor. He could hear the rattle of the Cardassian running across the tops of the cages behind him.

Killua ran in a crouch towards the nearest catwalk. If he could get to his knife, he thought he could win this fight. A rattle of metal behind him, and he turned and let out a little gasp. The Cardassian had just thrown his knife. It hit Killua hard in the chest.

He reached up to pull the knife out and started towards the Cardassian, but then the pain hit. Killua dropped to his knees. The blade must have punched in between his ribs. He drew a shuddering breath. The cagetop rattled as the Cardassian moved towards him. Killua stared. A blue sparkle had begun in the air. Razor materialized just behind the Cardassian and charged forward. Something flashed in his hand and he plunged it into the alien's throat. More brown blood welled between his fingers. The Cardassian clutched at his throat. Killua passed out.

+----+

It was quiet.

Not quiet, exactly, but... there was an element missing. Some layer of noise that he'd never paid much attention to.

There was someone holding his hand.

Gon opened his eyes. The light overhead was flickering. Someone coughed nearby. There was a baby crying, and a low murmur of conversation.

"I can't sense what anyone is feeling," he whispered. Deltan empathic sense, never particularly strong, seemed to be completely gone.

"Leorio says injuries completely destroyed Gon's Linster Node." Gon looked over and saw Killua by the side of his bed. A bandage wrapped the Rutian's bare torso. "Gon won't be able to sense what other people are feeling the easy way anymore."

"I never did it to Killua the easy way," Gon whispered. His chest hurt. His face felt raw and tight. The back of his head throbbed with pain. He smiled. Killua smiled back to him.

"What am I feeling right now?" Killua asked.

Gon looked around. He was surrounded by Bajorans. "Triumph. Happiness." He squeezed Killua's hand. "Killua is worried that he has to go and lead these people."

"Fuck 'em," Killua said. Gon turned to look back at him. "They can lead themselves. We dropped most of them off with a freighter yesterday. Razor has his army. We picked up Knuckle and Shoot. I'm staying with Gon." He chuckled. "Gon's bad at this game. I was just happy, because Gon said... Gon said Killua."

Gon drifted off to sleep again.

When he woke again, the Bajorans were out of sickbay. Killua was still holding his hand, but the Rutian was fast asleep. Leorio stood over him. "Good morning, Captain," he whispered, running a medical tricorder over Gon's head. "I'd say you're ready to go back to your quarters." 

"Killua says I've lost my empathy," Gon said. He frowned. "How long have I been--"

"Three days the first time," Leorio said. "After you woke up the first time, you started showing neurotransmitter imbalance, so I put you down for another three. We're cruising safely in Federation space. It sounds like they're trying to decide if you should get a court-martial or a medal."

Gon looked at Killua, pulled himself upright. "Who's in command?"

"Technically me," Leorio said. "I've got Colt running things on the bridge, though. Between you, Captain chest-trauma over there, and Kurapika, I have my hands full."

"What happened to Kurapika?" Gon asked.

Leorio moved aside, and Gon cringed. "He'll be in hospitals for at least a year," Leorio explained. The Vulcan's face had been smashed. His nose was a ruinous mess, the skin of his face a mottled green bruise. Dermal regeneration scars crisscrossed his face, and he breathed with a soft hiss. "Far as I can tell, he got his face smashed in with the butt of his own phaser rifle. Damn Vulcan physiology is the only reason he's still alive."

"He saved my life." Gon jumped. Killua was smiling fondly at Kurapika. "I turned in my resignation. Section 31 can kiss my ass."

Leorio waved Gon off of the biobed. "Go. Get reacquainted with your quarters."

Killua rubbed sleep out of his eyes. He smiled at Gon.

"Killua resigned?"

Killua nodded.

"Captain?"

Gon turned to face Leorio. 

"Your psionic abilities are all gone. Permanently. That might have some consequences. But it has a few benefits, too, for a Deltan." He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully at Killua.

Gon stood up and pulled Killua close. "Killua," he whispered.

Killua sighed a little as he melted into Gon's embrace, then he slipped out of Gon's arms and led him out, through the ship's corridors, to the turbolift. In the lift, they embraced again, and Gon plucked up the courage to kiss him. "I," Gon said in between kisses, "am completely," he kissed Killua again, very thoroughly, "stupidly..." he sighed. "I'm in love with Killua."

"Killua is in love with Gon," Killua replied.

The turbolift door opened on deck two. Gon dragged Killua to his quarters. The instant they were inside, he pushed Killua down onto the bed, climbing up to straddle him. "Doctor says--" he fumbled open the medical scrub tunic he'd woken up in. "Doctor says we can do this."

Killua's arms circled Gon's bare torso, and he grinned. "I was gonna say Gon should take a shower first, but--" He yelped as Gon lifted him up and pulled him to his bathroom.

"Good idea!" Gon enthused. He peppered Killua with kisses all the way to the shower. 

Having just spent six days sleeping, Gon was wide awake. He decided to devote every last bit of that energy to making love to Killua. By the time they finally did fall asleep, curled up together, he was sure he would never be able to devote _enough_ energy to making love to Killua.

But he was sure as hell going to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Nearly at the end. One more chapter, and then I'll probably post a part two with a hard explicit rating of their first night... well, okay of that full day of fucking they just did. Just some wrap-up to go. Any guesses what the title refers to?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. Actually written a few hours after the second-to-last one in a fit of sleep-schedule-induced boredom, but I've delayed posting it.
> 
> Anyway, time's up on guessing what the fic's name is about.

"Sixty two people dead, the Olympia so completely demolished that they're talking about scrapping her, and the Cardassians snapping at our heels, and you want to know what's going to happen to you?" Admiral Chekov growled. Gon flinched back a little. He didn't need his empathic senses to tell how furious the admiral was. "I vas all for court martialing you until your ears bled." The elderly Fleet Admiral paced behind his desk with the energy of a man fifty years his junior, his accent growing more pronounced as he grew angrier. "Apparently, Admiral Netero thinks that what you did was 'noble in the highest traditions of Starfleet,' and he wants you to be given command of the Yamato when she's launched."

Gon stared at the admiral. "Really?"

"That's what Netero wants," Admiral Chekov said. He took a deep, calming breath. "Everyone sensible was a wery little brighter than that. You've been transferred to the Adelphi as her captain. I don't think you should get a shuttlecraft, and they are giving you an Ambassador. She's just come back from the Cardassian border and you'll be patrolling near Gullrey. Hopefully you can't cause any more political incidents from clear across the Federation. I just haff one question, Captain Freecs. What in the hell possessed you to go haring off into Cardassian space in the first place?"

Gon swallowed. He'd not been asked yet to detail his reasons for the actions he took. Netero had said he approved, and most of the admiralty seemed to accept that. "I asked Admiral Netero--"

"And he gave you permission, I know." Chekov leaned on the back of his chair. "Admiral Netero came up half through military operations and about three quarters through intelligence, Captain. I know why he gave permission. I just want to know what the hell gave you the idea in the first place."

Gon blew out a sigh. "If I gave the Admiral full details, I think my fiance would end up in a prison. It's all a bit hazy--"

"Then this _is_ about Netero's damned black ops. That man is a menace! I give you my word, Captain Freecs, nothing is going to happen to your fiance. As far as I'm concerned, he saved the lives of a Starfleet officer and dozens of innocent Bajorans."

Gon stared at the floor. He sucked in a deep breath. "Has Admiral Chekov ever heard of Section 31?"

Chekov scowled unhappily. "I've heard rumors and innuendo. I thought they were a boogeyman to scare the junior admirals. You are about to make me wery unhappy, Captain."

"Killua approached me as a member of Section 31. He was confident the Nakata was carrying slaves. Which it was. Whether the Cardassians can get away with what they're doing to Bajor under interstellar law is up for debate, but even if they weren't legally slaves, I knew what was going to happen to them. I could have sent him off with a shuttlecraft at the border and been well within the letter of my orders, but I chose to put the full power of the Olympia behind his mission."

"Do you know vhat Section 31 does, Captain Freecs?" Chekov asked. 

Gon shook his head. "Only part of it, sir."

"Mostly, they assassinate. Your fiance has killed--"

"A lot of people. I know. Sir, the only death at his hands I care about is the Cardassian officer he killed aboard the Nakata, because that man was trying to kill him."

"About that," Chekov said. He picked up a PADD from his desk. "That man vas Glinn Hisoka Morow. The Cardassian Union is insisting that ve know what happened to him, as he was on a mission to keep track of your fiance." Chekov sighed. "He vas Killua's opposite number in the Occupational Government. A member of the Obsidian Order."

"But the Obsidian Order is... they're like the Romulan Tal Shiar or--"

"You should learn ancient Earth literature, Captain. 'That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.' Section 31 doesn't smell wery sweet, though."

"Deltans have some quoteable poetry, too," Gon replied.

+----+

"'In every bush of thorns and prickles may be found a bird of song,' and in the thorns and prickles of the last month, I've found Killua."

Killua smiled. He reached up to pluck at the lapel of Gon's dress uniform. Captain Komugi smiled, turning her blind eyes towards the sound."And does Captain Gon Freecs take Killua to be his bonded love, in the highest traditions of Delta and the Federation?" she said with a smile.

"I do," Gon replied confidently.

"Then it is so declared," the captain said. "I am very pleased to have the honor, as my last act in command of the Adelphi, of announcing the marriage of Gon Freecs and Killua Zoldyck." She held out her hand and smirk a bit. "You'll have to take it, boys. I can't see where your hands are."

Gon and Killua reached up together to take her hand, and she raised it up over her head. The few people gathered in the Adelphi's rec room cheered. Gon smiled to himself at Leorio's voice. 

"Captain Komugi," he said, "my thanks. On behalf of Starfleet command, and with gratitude for the service, I relieve the captain."

"I stand relieved," Komugi replied formally. "The ship is yours, Captain. May she carry you to glory."

"We'll have plenty of glory, I'm sure," Killua said with a smile.

"I'd say I would settle for easy science missions," Gon smiled and kissed his husband. "But I would be lying."

"And Gon hates lies," Killua said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, that is an old, confident version of Komugi. I needed a wise type to officiate the wedding.


End file.
